


Focus

by fre



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, light stretching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 00:30:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13915536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fre/pseuds/fre
Summary: Genji and Zenyatta are reunited after an encounter with Doomfist





	Focus

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not very good with deadlines so here you go

It was already dark when Genji and the rest of his team returned to the base camp in Gibraltar, finding the facility emptier than when they had left. Only flood lights lit the main corridors, small illuminations coming from the inner courtyard. Emergencies systems locked the doorways so that only administrative passcodes permitted entrance. Light unfurled through the empty halls, flickering momentarily.  
  
In the privacy of his own room, Genji unhooked the Dragonblade, setting it aside, before removing his armor. It was a simple ritual, one he might usually do with precision and care if his muscles were not already sore. Steam peeled away as he dislodged pieces of armor. The rest of it lay strewn across the floor, empty of any immediate importance.  
  
Finally, the opportunity to rest approached him, and while he felt the ache of travel not a single cell within him would relent to sleep. He considered shutting off the breaker for the lights, but feared it might not operate afterwards, at least not until they could restore a generator.  
  
Delaying allowed his mind to wander, which felt as though he was occupied and when this became numbing he knelt down, stretching out the tension in his thighs. In the med bay, he could only stretch from his place in bed, limited in flexibility by numerous wires and monitors.  
  
He had only switched sides when the door opened, a shadow falling across the room.  
  
“Genji, my dear, I- oh, my apologies,” a familiar voice ventured, retreating almost immediately as he entered.  
  
Genji recoiled, not quite expecting who it might be, more frightened than embarrassed, before springing after him. “It's fine, Master, please stay. I was not expecting you actually,” he said, shutting the door behind Zenyatta. “I did not think I would be seeing anyone for a few days now.”  
  
Genji might have been the only person at the base, had Lena not chosen to stay the night. The other agents had dispersed early, with no reason to return to Gibraltar until another assignment was issued. She, too, had been wounded in the altercation with Doomfist and was awaiting Dr. Zeigler's return.  
  
“I believe we arrived only shortly after you had landed. Lena mentioned you had been injured,” he said and laughed. “I see I was perhaps too hasty in my concern.”  
  
“I don't mind,” Genji said, sitting down before his teacher. “I am only happy to see you again.”  
  
“Likewise,” Zenyatta smiled, tilting his chin to admire the blush bridging the metal and flesh of his husband's cheeks. “Though you seem healed.”  
  
His heart cooled. Genji thought of the very instant his body had met the frame of the car, the impact bursting circuit connections. Scattered electricity bit his flesh then immediately paralyzed. He did not much enjoy the thought of Zenyatta seeing him so shaken, rivulets of blood filing out on the dark pavement. There was medical assistance at the check point, just enough to patch the wounds along his sides. Metal had sheared a seam parallel to his spine, goring him deep enough to require more intensive treatment.  
  
“Enough to keep the processor stable,” he said. “Still, I will have to wait for Dr. Zeigler. Perhaps you would be willing to keep me company...”  
  
“I wouldn't ask for any other,” Zenyatta said. “Was I interrupting earlier?”  
  
“Oh, I was only stretching. I had not anticipated having guests, or even encountering anyone for that matter.” He had only agreed to meet up with Lena the next day to work on maintenance.  
  
“Please, finish your exercise while I make you some tea.”  
  
“Maybe later. I would rather you joined me,” he said, tugging at the hem. “I have missed your presence.”  
  
Zenyatta sat down again, repositioning himself perpendicular to the cyborg's legs, stretching one over his shoulder, leaving just enough give to pull and loosen the muscle. Genji tightened the space between them, merely inching forward into a brief kiss before easing gently back. In metered angles, Zenyatta pressed the limb taut, their tendons, perfectly joined, arching into a pointed steeple. Genji's own hand landed on Zenyatta's folded leg, their lips meeting again before he could speak.  
  
He lowered Genji gingerly and gradually bent the leg at the knee, sensing the keen pivot of metal rolling in its socket. In careful motions, Zenyatta followed, moving steadily downward until Genji's composure was disturbed by the sudden, burning agony along his spine, causing him to flinch, nearly throwing his partner back.  
  
“Master,” Genji gasped, reaching to balance them both.  
  
“It's alright,” Zenyatta said reassuringly, moving then to prop him upright. “I misjudged your limits. Perhaps, when you feel ready, you will let me examine the wound on your back.”  
  
Genji thanked him, but dropped his gaze, saying, “Maybe in the morning. I'm too tired to deal with it right now.” His synthetic arm crossed his neck, stretching the full framework of cables, comfortably rotating the along the cuff of the joint. He was more delicate with the muscles and tendons as he extended his own arm. “Are you not tired as well?”  
  
Zenyatta shook his head, releasing all but one of the mala from his concentration. “I will be fine, Genji, I am more concerned that you will not sleep.”  
  
“I didn't think so either. I haven't been able to focus for a while. My mind won't turn off.” His posture fell, arm slackening at his side. Zenyatta grasped it.  
  
“You seem distressed. You are welcome to relax while I work. It should not take me very long.”  
  
He paused, deciding any fears were void in Zenyatta's presence. There was no other option to consider other than relinquishing any further objections to being touched and drawing himself into Zenyatta's lap. He reached for the same hand and pressed a kiss, saying, “You are too good to me, Zenyatta. We have both struggled these past weeks and still you put me before yourself.”  
  
“We have not faced the same struggle” he said. The tricky part was over, Zenyatta realized, just getting Genji to relent. Everything else was clockwork; dilating the wound slightly, noting exactly where debris had been removed. “My assignment was not so dangerous.”  
  
Genji's grip tightened, reacquainted with the swell of pain creeping into the core of his chest. Zenyatta worked diligently, reforming collapsed nodes with their corresponding nerve endings, attentive of the defaced mechanisms beneath layers of artificial mesh. Even as circuits adjusted, Genji held him firmly. Surely this gesture was fulfilling- relief, at last.  
  
“Lena was quite glad to see me, though there was not much she could say without her accelerator shorting out,” Zenyatta said. “I believe I caught most of the conversation.”  
  
Genji laughed weakly, “It's been difficult discussing plans for the both of us.” He thought about her at the north end of the floor, spending the evening in comms, ready for any passing signals to fire off the Gibraltar network. It was quiet through the halls, only the waves of red light flashing hypnotically, their sirens empty. Thinking that either of them would have been alone here unnerved him. “She must be lonely.”  
  
“I believe she has most likely fallen asleep by now, my dear. We'll see her in the morning,” Zenyatta said. “Besides, you don't seem to be in any position of moving or even putting pants on.”  
  
“Not really,” he mumbled, unable to keep his eyes focused.  
  
Zenyatta pulled the synthetic flesh taut, evening it in small presses with his thumb and index finger. “Feel too tight?”   
  
Genji shook his head.  
  
Finer tears remained, requiring very specific materials, though now the split cables and weeping hydraulic chamber were repaired. It was certainly not perfect but in the very least Genji could be comfortable while they awaited Angela's return.  
  
Zenyatta laid him out on his stomach, rising to turn off the power, dimming the room to into its smallest dimension, faintly lit in orbital blue pins. Under darkness, the station was an empty machine, settling into stand by mode. Dull security lights curtained beneath the door.  
  
The low rhythm of Genji's heart, almost undetectable, captivated his attention, the sensation magnified through the open lid of the mala. A shared pulse.


End file.
